Gaïa
by LittleKatt
Summary: Nothing is sure when even the ground under your feet is not what it seems. Kagome may have finally found the answer to her question - why are there no yōkai in her time ? And the answer brings things crashing down !
1. Chapter I : Reacquaintance

– _direct thoughts of character –_

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><p><strong><span>GAÏA<span>**

I. Reacquaintance

Kagome was bored. Really, really bored. Not quite to death yet, but she could feel the possibility dragging her down. She did have a naturally sunny personality, but the fact that she had barely slept 4 hours the previous night wasn't helping her. Stifling a jaw-splitting yawn, she attempted to rekindle a spark of interest towards the stage below. Her annoyance flared.

They had it **all **wrong.

The play was – _supposedly_ – a re-enactment of obscure Japanese tales. Yōkai tales. Well, not exactly, but most of them did have yōkai. The exact title of the play was "Ancient Japanese Tales Of The Feudal Times".

But they had it all _**wrong**__._

She could tell now that the current tale was about Inuyasha's brother – _errr, half-brother, but never mind _– and his quest to find a legendary sword – _duh! the guy obviously had sucky hobbies_ – accompanied by his loyal servant, a fearsome (_gag_) dragon … !

The very idea of Jaken, with his bulging eyes, small beak and, well, _toad-like_ appearance as a fearsome DRAGON was simply ludicrous.

Of course, the worst was his master, Sesshōmaru. According to the actor's interpretation, the Great Lord was a proud – _at least they got that right _– and compassionate _(*insert hysteric giggles here*)_ yōkai with an unfortunate weakness for.. _women… _How the arrogant, cold and heartless aristocratic assassin could be so humiliated was almost hilarious. Why, it looked like over the time his character had been mixed with Miroku's perverted one !

Still, the amusement provided distracted her slightly from the raw, jagged and so, _so_ familiar pain.

Taking a firm breath, which was more of a desperate gulp of air, really, she plastered a cheerful, and I'm-really-enjoying-this-thank-you-so-much-for-inviting-me-here smile on her face, before turning to her neighbour.

Who was staring at her with a dreamy look.

ﺺ

He still couldn't believe that she had accepted his _date_, and was sitting right next to him. She looked so beautiful, her thick inky hair clasped in a demure bun, clothed in a flowering yellow knee-length skirt with a pastel blue blouse ! Her wide, expressive eyes, which were intently following the actors on scene, crinkled slightly in mirth at some_thing_ – he couldn't be bothered to follow the dialogues, not with **her** sitting so close. His eyes greedily traced her high cheekbone, full lips, the slender curve of her white neck. Her chest rose when she inhaled sharply, and he followed the movement with fascination, lost in a daze.

From the corner of his vision, he vaguely registered that she was turning towards him, a smile on her lips. Embarrassed at being caught staring, and a little angry at the interruption, he blushed and hastily redirected his attention to the stage.

ﺺ

Kagome narrowed her eyes dangerously, sorely tempted to vent her temper on the diminutive, blundering idiot who had been staring at her _breasts_. She should have been used to it by now, she knew. She was not excessively beautiful, but she was the pretty, homely-looking type guys seem to enjoy dating (_and marrying ?_) and she had an air of naïve innocence that drew them in. She'd even have a certain success with _yōkai, _for Kami's sake ! Not that she risked meeting any, now…

When she'd had sufficiently recovered from the well's sealing, and the loss of what she considered her second family, she had frantically attempted to find one of her friend – _anyone_ !

Days of browsing the deep recesses of the web – _and a few unfortunate __**stuff**__ seared in her memory_ –, scanning stupid yōkai legends, websites, names, pictures – **everything**.

After two months of fruitless research, she had reached a blank. She _had_ found legends about her quest, the Jewel, Sesshōmaru, Midoriko, a few obscure references to their group maybe_… _but the facts were so twisted, the characters of these tales lost to time…

She had realized that nobody would remember Inuyasha's tentative, fragile smile, her own brave hanyō protector, so rash and always quick to anger, but quicker still to defend his friends, no matter how much he bickered and complained. Nobody to remember Miroku's, the monk's, lecherous hand, Sango's chatter as they relaxed in the hot springs, or Shippō's screaming mushrooms. How she missed the little yōkai who was almost her son, his reassuring warmth when she slept, his happy laughter and childish exuberance.

Only her.

She was the only one left to hold those memories.

Even her family couldn't understand it. She bore their 'understanding' – _more like pitying, really_ – looks bravely, doing her best to hide the frozen emptiness inside her, its jagged points tearing at her skin, at her heart and soul. She hid the terrible feeling of _**not belonging.**_

Eventually, she graduated, a feat she managed only thanks to her insomnia, the long nights spent studying. She'd figured if she crammed every moment with work, she would finally stop _thinking_. The memories of what had been, what she had lost, haunted her still, taunted her with the promise of lost possibilities.

She had always been studious, but she became single-mindedly scholarly. Her friends gradually drifted away. She was glad for this, they knew too much – _or not enough_ – and their presence held too many memories.

Shaking herself mentally from the well-trod path of thought, she concluded her internal chronicle with a wry pat on the head for her cultural anthropology and folklore diploma. After all, might as well put those years spent trudging through the Warring States period in feudal Japan to good use... Her colleagues would've had a fit if only they knew they'd had a direct witness under their nose all this time !  
>Assuming they'd believe her, that is...<p>

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><p><em>This is my first fanfiction, please be gentle !<br>I'm open to all and any constructive criticism.  
>I do not, of course, own any of these characters, which are property of <em>Rumiko Takahashi.<em>  
>Much love,<br>~ LittleKatt_


	2. Chapter II : Underground operations

II. Underground operations

Sesshōmaru was bored. Of course, this was a natural result of one's attendance at a 5-hours long meeting with babbling halfwits on the various affairs of Surface. The stuffy office smelled of chemicals and its furniture was bare, modern, and brittle. The days of ceremonial meetings in ornate war chambers with tea ceremonies had vanished like petals on the turbulent rapids of Time.

He brusquely decided that it was quite enough ; he had bestowed the required attention for this petty matter. His face did not vary from his passionless mask as his golden eyes grew colder, their weight almost soul-crushing. The accountants in front of him flinched and blanched visibly.

He dismissed them with a flick of his wrist, a glint of his claws, and they scuttled hurriedly for the exit, absurdly insectan in the motion.

They had left their papers behind in their haste. Blinking in annoyance, he once again pondered the wisdom in being the interlocutor of the _human_ creatures, when he suddenly felt a brush of holy against his aura. Eyes narrowing minutely, Sesshōmaru instantly swept the surroundings with his senses to locate potential threats along with the owner of this aura. He could detect the occasional rodent, small life forces in the ground, and vast expanses of metal. In vain, the holy energy had disappeared beyond his reach as swiftly as it had appeared…

It had been a century since he had last felt such an aura, and he had thought the shrine maiden's true trade long forgotten. Alarmed, he considered the situation if they were exposed, his jaw tightening slightly. Was there even a probability ? The _humans_ had grown complacent and relegated 'monsters' to the dark of their closets, after all.

Still, he was mildly disturbed by the fact he felt as if, for some reason, this aura _should_ have been stronger.

After having determined that the aura's possessor would not be coming back anytime soon, Sesshōmaru had left the room. He was walking purposefully, almost gliding, through convoluted corridors carved in rock. The stone was rough, the tunnels seemingly formed by nature and chance. They were dark and damp, with a tangy aftertaste of earth and mud, and air that had traveled through the dark recesses of the underground, spinning its tale of frightened creatures, untouched treasures and pulsating life to those willing to listen.

He advanced still, and stepped in the abyss without breaking stride.

ﺺ

She just had to investigate. Kagome checked her brown, burly backpack one last time, attempting to settle her jumbled nerves. It was _illegal_, sure, but she was doing this for the _**greater cause**_. Surely the Kami would protect her…

Her 'burglar' outfit consisted of a brown long-sleeved shirt with multi-pocketed black denim trousers and on top a black sweatshirt. It was completed by sturdy leather boots, comfortable and _convenient_.

Over the years, she had grown to value practicality, and so she planned accordingly.

She hurried in the streets, eyes straying towards the hidden moon by habit. She could hardly make out a few stars, a small feat in itself, but certainly not enough to direct herself. How unpractical that would have been back _then_, she mused.

The night was silent, with only the distant rumble of a passing car. She found herself lengthening her pace, anxious in the unexpectedly oppressive atmosphere. Ahead of her, she distinguished the steady glare of a subway entrance. There ! Heading down the flight of stairs, she validated her ticket and stepped on the platform.

Said platform was almost empty, it really was _that_ late.

Kagome thought it was time for a small pep talk. She had done her homework and googled stuff. She had a plan of the rail system and info on how to progress. She could do this !

She waited for the next train with a mix of apprehension and anticipation – _finally, some action !_ –, as it announced its arrival with a loud screech_. _Careful_, _she staid put until all the passengers had left before making her move.

She quickly slipped into the tunnel, stealthily hugging the wall. She really hoped no one had noticed, no camera had recorded her. She suppressed a wince when this possibility crossed her mind, before mentally reigning herself in and focusing her attention on the task. She definitely didn't want to get caught dead by a train. Scratch that, better pay attention to the phrasing, girl ! She had no death wish. Though dealing with the police **would** be a bit tricky._ " Yes, you see, I was trespassing but only to check on what could possibly be humanity's doom. Really, don't mind me, just passing by..."_

Marshalling her courage, she broke in a trot. She thought she had a few minutes, between two and five, before the next train. Right ahead, four hundred meters exactly, she had plotted her first hiding place. Hurrying along the ghostly security lights, she jogged next to the rails. The darkness was alive with faded scripts and alien noises, but the tunnel was bigger than what she had pictured. Her footsteps echoed weirdly and she could almost hear the peculiar hiss of the trains in this underground labyrinth. She was nowhere out of breath when she slumped in a niche, folding on herself with her legs tucked beneath, she was happy to see. She still had some of her old endurance, after all !

She checked her fluorescent watch nervously as the minutes ticked by, with no sign of the imminent train. Had there been an accident ? Was it only late ? She chewed on her lip worriedly.

After several minutes curled up and stressed, she finally heard the rails vibrating. The train sped by her hiding place with nobody making big signals at the windows, which she took as a good sign of no one noticing her !

Still, she wondered at the train's timing. It couldn't be that late, right ? She whacked her forehead when it hit her ; of course, less trains at night ! How stupid of her, really.

Determined to make the most of this, she scrambled up and hurried into the tunnel.

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><p><em>Hello !<br>Summer, summer... I am actually still working, a lot, and have less time to write - work reports before pleasure !  
>I hope you enjoy this story, I will try and write approximately 1,000 words for each paragraphs, but don't expect a precise count off !<br>I write for my pleasure, and post my work here to share with you, but I don't really have a schedule, so I'm sorry if you have to wait a bit between chapters :)  
>As always, I appreciate all feedback - and, remember, this is a fanfiction, all the characters are property of Rumiko Takahashi.<em>  
><em>Much Love,<br>~ LittleKatt_

_P.S : I don't have a stable connection, but I'm still working on the story and currently researching a bit more, it's been a while since I read the manga._

Updated : _Thursday 4th of August  
><em>


	3. Chapter III : Stranger Land

III. Stranger Land

To the uninitiated, Sesshōmaru might have looked as though he was taking a leisurely stroll. However, an experienced fighter would recognize the perfect balance of his body, poised with complete awareness of his surroundings, the calculated economy of movement. And then, he leapt. Sudden flash of death.

Blood. Scarlet. Liquid glory drenched the earth. Warmth seeped through soil. The world bled crimson… For one glorious instant, instinct ruled him and pure acceptance suffused him, before he allowed himself control again, jerking his focus tightly in place. He knew in this state of mind beyond thought or caring lay his greatest potential as a killing weapon.

Nonetheless, Sesshōmaru thought of himself as a being of words ; words gave insight into one's thoughts and one's mind's inner workings. Words and thoughts were the difference between lesser beings and greater ones. They meant understanding, and knowledge, which in turn beget control. And his control was absolute.

"Halt", ground out the powerful yōkai, frost lacing his voice. The quiet command echoed through the bloody aftermath, instantly carried out by all creatures with any wit left enough to obey the icy fear it invoked. In one glance, Sesshōmaru assessed the situation, golden eyes sweeping across the frozen battleground. To his mild surprise, quickly turning to haughty contentment, allies and enemies alike trembled like trapped rabbits before him. Confirming what he could already scent, most yōkai were injured, too many dead, all strewn haphazardly across the battlefield.

It was a massacre. A needless, wasteful one. His brows quivered slightly in disapprobation, barely registering when the closest yōkai cringed in answer. He could pick out most of his troops, less depleted than he would have believed, but still too crippled for his liking. They had spread out in clusters of ones or threes as customary for solitary creatures more used to dueling than fighting in cohesive cohorts. So had their adversaries, obviously, but his troops had been trained better.

The land was in turmoil and blood flowed freely, 'til streams rand red and the earth seeped, crying rivers of crimson mud. It was a time of battle and despair, where prowess and honour were discarded in favour of survival. Yes, and later when corpses had been delivered to their last rest, when wounds had been bathed and dressed, and the last puppet of this hydra-headed conspiracy disposed of, Sesshōmaru would stop to ponder those mysteries.

Truly, he felt a growing repugnance for this useless squandering of yōkai lives. So few were left. And yet…it seemed they grew desperate to plunge into battle and forget, into the oblivion of glorious gore, the sweet rush of lightning coursing in their veins, deep towards the black abyss… And to his secret horror, he found that he did understand their choice, for even he felt at times the restless urge, the loathsome feeling of a confinement growing ever tight.

Nevertheless, he had had no choice but to accept this position bestowed upon him by the Last Council. It seemed to him now, in retrospective, this must have been the fruition of a long-dormant plot and although he had foiled all the subsequent attempts at unseating or killing him, he knew his path vapid and barren. Little hope was left for this fading world, and his official position as its ambassador, really, a child's excuse to try and seize his lands when he bore his duties to their frontiers.

A ripple marred his brow as an echo floated back to him. This trace of purity he had felt, like a fading melody, had not been wrought by blurring memories pouring in the present. Someone or something still dwelled on the Surface. A menace they could not afford. The left corner of his mouth twisted faintly in distaste.

ﺺ

It is a world of chaos and upheaval, she thinks. The words are obscure, but she enjoys their sonority as they roll around her mind, deep and gravelly like a rock-slide. Landslides are dangerous, too. "14:30", the numbers taunt from her wrist-watch. She knows she should be grateful to the little mechanism ticking away the world ; it keeps her anchored here.

Not that she knows exactly what 'here' is, she muses for the hundredth time. Here, on earth ? Should here stand for a place, or a time, perhaps ? Here, Planet Kagome, year 1 of the Great Mistake. She muttered it a few times to get the ring of it, before squeezing her eyes shut. She could feel herself growing crazy. Kagome was not meant for immobility ; it made her twitchy.

Things had been going as planned. _Too good to be true, really._ She had snuck around like a pro. Hugging walls, muffling her steps. When her damned curiosity got the better of her. That smooth metal handle glinting at her ! Provoking her ! Of course, she had opened the door. It was too neat. Plus it didn't look like the other service entrances and maintenance doors.

She had smelled a mystery and followed the scent like the worst addict – _and of course I always__ somehow__ deserve what happens to me_ – , even taking the risk of crossing the rails. On a closer look at the door, there was no label or indication of what lay behind. And when the handle turned smoothly, she had felt like cheering.

What had happened then ? Her memories seemed hazy. A strong feeling had gripped her, that she had stepped in another world, sluicing through the currents of time. But she knew how that felt, intimately, and this was different. Everything was bare and smooth, the walls unpainted plaster and the ground raw steel.

Her footsteps echoed strangely along the corridor. She had seen two doors, a plastic one on her right and what looked like a vault door all bulging metal. Like an automaton, her feet had taken her to that last door, the one that had given her a whiff of forbidden.

It had called to her, seeming so lonely – _right, my excuse for trespassing is now sentient objects_ – and as out of place as her. She thought she must have opened it and gone beyond, for her next memory was brown. Tunnels upon tunnels of dirt and rock. And then, a wrenching emptiness. Had she hit her head ? Her mind ached...

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><p><em>Sorry for the wait, this story is not abandoned but I am quite busy and will be posting on and off.<em>

_As always, I appreciate all feedback – and this being a Fanfiction, all the characters are property of Rumiko Takahashi (unless otherwise stated)._

_I feel compelled to indicate that this was an extended introduction, and the story format will evolve to reflect the change in pace and action._

_Much Love,_

_~ LittleKatt_


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